For in-universe game play. Journey through both familiar and foreign settings, explore lost ruins and forgotten cities, and try to bring light to the darkness of the world... or, you know, blow stuff up. Either way.

The Tsuirakuan traders from Chrysalis Industries weren't particularly hard to find; quite the contrary, in fact. There was no airship terminal in town oer se, but that didn't keep a large, garishly colored airship, redolent of magic, from being tethered to a spire of rock on the edge of town. Its color scheme was ... colorful. "Something to impress the natives?" Therese wondered whimsically. "Or an emblem of what you have told me is legendarily bad Mesuinu taste?"

Sister Rose grimaced. "Both, probably." She could also see an odd-looking carriage, with no horses attached and "liveries" that matched the airship's colors, parked in front of a bar down the street from where Dess Marson's own peculiar transport had disgorged the group. Even at this considerable distance, Rose could detect a definite Ward spell on the contraption. There was certainly no need for it to be detectable that far away, she thought; there must have been some kind of thaumato-sensory amplification at work, to make sure the locals got the message "don't screw around with this thing."

"Shall we check them out?" Therese prodded, her face suggesting distinct ambivalence at the prospect.

Rose was amused. "What do you mean, 'we'? This is your quest now. Argus and I are going to see if we can find the route from here to -- where his daughter lives." She gestured with mock courtesy. "You're on your own checking that place out. I must say, the chances of it being dangerous, at least in terms of native troublemakers, are pretty well zero, if I understand the mind-set of the Mesuinu people. They don't go around looking for trouble." She chuckled. "They're plenty good at creating it without looking, though. So it's going to be safe, except for whatever trouble the Tsuirakuans create themselves." Another chuckle. "If that's any consolation."

Jack Rothwell wrote:OOC I'm kind of stuck here tbh. Is the group splitting up now? I'm not sure where tamina's supposed to go atm./OOC

The previous is just a way of saying that (1) the Chrysalis people are in that bar, if anyone wants to drop in on them, and (2) Rose and Argus won't be along if they do (but Therese will). I'd say go write yourself a bar scene, let your imagination run riot. It will then be made to work with the Chrysalis people, or more accurately, the Chrysalis people's behavior will be made to work with however the bar scene develops. This thing is supposed to be collaborative, after all!

"Something to impress the natives?" Therese wondered whimsically. "Or an emblem of what you have told me is legendarily bad Mesuinu taste?""Both, probably.""Shall we check them out?" Therese prodded, her face suggesting distinct ambivalence at the prospect.Rose was amused. "What do you mean, 'we'? This is your quest now. Argus and I are going to see if we can find the route from here to -- where his daughter lives." She gestured with mock courtesy. "You're on your own checking that place out. I must say, the chances of it being dangerous, at least in terms of native troublemakers, are pretty well zero, if I understand the mind-set of the Mesuinu people. They don't go around looking for trouble." She chuckled. "They're plenty good at creating it without looking, though. So it's going to be safe, except for whatever trouble the Tsuirakuans create themselves." Another chuckle. "If that's any consolation."

"I'm sure it will be fine," I reply airly. We can hope, right? "And, actually, I think it looks... festive." Yes, that's a good word for it. Festive. Like a parade float.

I was kind of hoping that Argus would come along since he's all native and stuff, but apparently not. Just us foreigners. Ah well, at least I kinda look the part.

"Let's," Therese smiled, squeezing Desiree's hand. "It sounds like there's some music coming from that bar. Maybe there'll be some dancing."

As they approached, however, this idea started to seem less good. Considerably less good. The "music," now that they could hear it more clearly, sounded better suited for going through terminal convulsions, or torturing a cat, than dancing to. Therese pulled a face. "I apologize for the tastes of my countrymen," she told Desiree. "I had no idea they'd be making that kind of noise here ... hmmmm. That kind of sounds like the musical equivalent of that airship. You don't suppose it's the Tsuirakuans who are making that racket, do you? Still want to dance to it?"

A dog that had blundered into the vicinity suddenly pricked up its ears and took off, yelping and whining, in the opposite direction as Therese waited for a reply.

Tamina, for her part, had trailed behind the half-elf and her lover, taking in the sights of the town with vague interest. With Rose and Argus breaking away for family the kobold felt a little like a third wheel, but the rising music from the establishment they were approaching served as a welcome distraction from the awkwardness.

The appearance of the dog was not.

The women heard a sharp hissing noise behind them followed by a second yelp from distressed animal as it made a beeline for safety. The canine was not having a good day.

As Therese and Desiree turned to look at the dog, what appeared to be a Salvusite emerged from the bar, his hands tightly plastered over his ears. "THE BELLS ... THE BELLS ... THEY DEAFEN ME," he bellowed without removing his hands, and took off at a trot in the same generation as the now escaping dog.

"Weird," Therese murmured. "I don't hear any bells there. Almost every form of racket known to man, and probably some new ones, but no bells."

As Therese and Desiree turned to look at the dog, what appeared to be a Salvusite emerged from the bar, his hands tightly plastered over his ears. "THE BELLS ... THE BELLS ... THEY DEAFEN ME," he bellowed without removing his hands, and took off at a trot in the same generation as the now escaping dog.

"Weird," Therese murmured. "I don't hear any bells there. Almost every form of racket known to man, and probably some new ones, but no bells."

I sigh. "It's always something, huh?" I say to no one imparticular. I shake my head and look up at Therese. "I'm still up for finding out if you are. Just, let's be careful if we do come across any bells."

"I didn't think Salvus was supposed to be all that big on magic," Therese remarked as she and Desiree entered the bar. It didn't require much sensitivity to magic to realize that a great deal of it was in use inside. Once through the door, however, it only took them a moment to figure out why, and it had nothing to do with Salvusites, quite the contrary.

The cacophony was coming from a remarkable magical construct (or illusion, or something) at one end of the dance floor. At least a dozen musical instruments of -- peculiar design were hanging in midair, apparently playing themselves. They followed no known musical form, at least no form known in the Northern Confederacy or Veracia. Pulsating lights played among them, growing bright and faint according to some rhythm (to use the term loosely) of their own. The few Veracians remaining in the bar were plastered against the far wall, mumbling under their breath, nursing their drinks, and occasionally glancing furtively at the "band."

And at the dancers on the floor. There were half a dozen people wearing incredibly garish outfits of obviously Tsuirakuan design, randomly waving body parts in each other's general direction according to the same rhythm, or lack of it, that drove the lights, such as it was. Once, in Goriel, Therese had stumbled across a scene where some weirdly scientifically inclined tribal chieftain had bombed one of his clan's adversaries with some manner of chemical weapon that caused its victims to expire in twitching, convulsing agonies. (The other clans of Goriel had banded together to rub the chemical-warfare-practicing outfit out, and for once, Therese had found herself approving of a general Gorielian social action.) The effect here was very much the same ... except that the "victims" on the dance floor were laughing, talking, and generally having a fine time, from the looks of it.

"Uh, I think we can wait for the next set before we join in the dancing," Therese said tentatively. "On the other hand, I think we've found the Chrysalis Industries people..."